


In which an old ship has a talk with his descendant

by arual1407



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Other, Psii has synesthesia, no beta reading we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22701454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arual1407/pseuds/arual1407
Relationships: Sollux Captor & The Psiioniic | The Helmsman
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	In which an old ship has a talk with his descendant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Demon_Cookie101](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demon_Cookie101/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The uncut adventures of Tired SeaDad ft. Others](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21789154) by [Demon_Cookie101](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demon_Cookie101/pseuds/Demon_Cookie101). 



Okay, so maybe Dualscar is right, and maybe he _should_ have a conversation with Sollux about basically everything. The only problem with that whole line of thought is that, well, that requires actually talking. And talking is still definitely one of those things that're just hard. It's hard having to start talking after 5000 of silence. It's hard, and nobody understands. Still, talking is sort of necessary when _apparently_ you can't get away with just ordering everything online and being a completely useless, hermetic lump stuck in an even more useless husk of a body. ( _Fucking seadwellers and their constant demands, fuck them all. Doesn't matter that DS is right, just fuck all of them._ )   
So what if the kid is quiet all the time and seems to basically avoid him? That's fine, that's not something they need to talk about. (His inner Dualscar lets him know that it's _absolutely_ something they need to talk about, but fuck inner Dualscar.) It's not a problem that they're like equal poles on a magnet. It just means that he doesn't get a chance to accidentally explode into a mess of whatever the fuck comes out of his mouth these nights. Half of that shit isn't even words and he hates it, hates stumbling over his words, hates his fumbling hands, the buckling knees, everything that comes with having to deal with an actual body again. That's all the stuff he's happy Sollux doesn't see. At least with all that stuff hidden away behind closed doors he won't be pitied. Or worse, coddled and taken care of like he's had his mind fried. DS does more than enough of that shit at a distance.

But still. Apparently the kid worries. And that's honestly the last thing Psii wants him to do. He doesn't want Sollux fretting, worrying. He doesn't even want the kid spending more than the bare minimum of brain power thinking about him because that's brain power taken away from more important things. (He's seen some of the diagrams and equations Sollux draws on his walls in chalk and for a moment even he had trouble keeping up with it all. It was beautiful.) The kid is too smart to spend his time worrying about some stupid old ship, he should be off somewhere learning and honing that bright, sharp mind of his. It's a stupid thought, but Psii wants nothing more than for Sollux to have the teaching, the guidance he needs to become something greater, something more than just the second most powerful psion on the planet. And even that is only by virtue of the difference in age and experience between them. He has no doubt that some day the kid will overtake him, leave him in the dust so quickly he'll only be left with the dustcloud to remember him by, if he's even still alive at that point.

That's in the far, far future though. Right now he's watching coffee slowly drip into the mug and contemplating whether just throwing himself into the conversation is even worth the effort. It doesn't seem like it, not when he's so tired he's barely awake. That just means he has an excuse to make another mug of coffee though. (Sleep is a bitch and if he could find whoever is in charge of making every part of his body hurt the second he lays down he'd kick their teeth in.)  
Coffee in hand (sorta, it's floating along and he has his hand vaguely around the mug,) he heads for the living room. It's not hard finding Sollux, not when he can feel the television running and he can hear the sounds of whatever shitty old game the kid is playing. There's just enough space for him on the couch, folded up in a way that makes his knees and back throb, but it's better than accidentally encroaching on Sollux's space. It's a bit difficult, though. The couch isn't that big and there's not much space for a stupidly tall wriggler and a ridiculously oversized adults. It's honestly a little bit of a miracle he can even fit in the hive. The game running is some ancient racing game with blocky graphics, cheery music and bright, gaudy colors. It'd probably be awful even without Sollux seemingly hitting every possible glitch. It's a bit annoying to look at, everything that just doesn't work, but that's fine. It gives him an excuse to discreetly just look at Sollux, because that's something he hasn't done yet. At least part of him has been absolutely terrified of seeing any hint of )(er in him, even if she only managed to get at him once. That was one time too many, though.  
Looking at the boy now there's nothing even remotely similar to )(er. Somehow that still feels like a relief, like a weight off of his shoulders. There's something different about the kids nose, but that might just have been because he's so used to his own crooked, broken nose. The camps were never kind and anyone hatched pretty usually never got to stay that way for long. So in that way it's a relief to see that Sollux doesn't have any scars yet. No obvious signs of old injuries, no scars, nothing. Just a kid, whole and healthy as the day he came crawling out of the caverns.

Of course his staring gets noticed eventually, shown in how Sollux pauses the game and immediately makes eye contact. It's a challenge, a direct offer to come at the kid if he dares. The only response anywhere near suitable is maintaining eye contact as he sips his coffee, which has apparently gone cold and nasty. Not really a surprise, but still.  
Neither is it a surprise when Sollux breaks eyecontact, backing down, and goes back to his game. "What? I'm guessing you didn't come out here just to stare at me all day." The kids voice is sharp, biting, tinged in acid green drips and the bitterness of eating fresh citrus peel. It's been a long time since he's had such a clear color and taste association, but at least he can disguise his grimace by taking a sip of the coffee.   
"I sure didn't. Figured now would be as good a time as ever to have a chat." He tries to tinge himself with honey and soft dawn purple. It comes out flat, though, shale grey and tasting of dust. "Not my idea, by the way, blame DS if this goes to shit."  
"Right, always blame the fishfuckers." Still that same bitterness, but the acid green is starting to fade. "So what'd you want to talk about?"  
"DS said you worried about not being good enough. And I wanted to tell you that's a crock of shit."

The surprised look on the kid's face is somehow a bit of a sad sight. So of course he has to keep talking. "I mean, he sort of told me to say a bunch of stupid shit but mostly I wanted to say that I think you're pretty neat." ( _Pretty neat??_ _Who the actual fuck says that kind of shit??_ )  
"Uh, thanks, I guess?" It's just sad, seeing how Sollux obviously doesn't know what to do with compliments, his words turned pale blue with a taste of cinnamon. "I don't get why you think that, I'm not really special or anything."  
"Oh what a pile of hoofbeastshit. You're absolutely special. I mean, you're smart as shit and your psionics are stronger than mine were when I was your age."

Again the kid looks like he might as well have been smacked across the face. Somehow a compliment is foreign to him, something so strange and out of place that he looks like he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's almost painful to look at.  
"I'm guessing you don't get to hear that sort of stuff often?" He has to ask, managing to tinge himself honey sweet this time, though the sound is still a bit too far towards indigo for his liking. It's not surprising when Sollux just sort of shakes his head in reply, game forgotten in the background. So he carries right on. "I mean, fair enough, everyone seems to have a problem telling yellows like us this sort of thing, so I guess I'll have to make up for that. I think you're probably one of the best wrigglers I've ever met. You're smart, strong as hell, you're obviously responsible, I've been told you're caring and a snarky little shit. So honestly, I don't think anyone could have asked for a better descendant."  
Sollux just scoffs. "Yeah, right, because I'm doing so great managing everything right now."  
"Listen, kiddo," he says, finally shifting both of them with his psionics so they can face each other head on. "I have some idea of what you're talking about, so let me tell you this. Me being like this," he gestures vaguely to himself, to all his flaws, everything, "is absolutely not your fault. You're not responsible for the fact that I can barely function night-to-night, so don't take that as something you're doing wrong. It's all on me, because I'm an old idiot who's gotten too used to not having to do anything other than existing. Fixing that is on me, not you, okay? You just need to keep doing what you're doing so you can grow into the amazing person I know you'll be some day."  
It's a decent enough little speech, in his opinion. Except then it looks like Sollux is tearing up, which means he's fucked up spectacularly. Shit. Time to do something stupid.

He leans forward a little and puts his arms around the kid. The fact that Sollux practically collapses on top of him is unexpected to say the least, and just like that he's holding a sobbing wriggler to his chest. It's definitely not what he expected when he started the conversation. But that's okay. It's progress. And he has no problem rubbing up and down the kids back and telling him how proud he is off him. Sure, it makes the kid cry harder, but it's progress.  
It's a good place to start their talk. And it'll feel great when he gets to rub Dualscar's face in it.


End file.
